


Touch

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: (will be tagging as i go), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Best Friends, Fluff, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Realizing Feelings, Slow Build, Slow Burn, akafuri - Freeform, furiaka, not bokushi, ocs as minor characters - Freeform, oreshi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5580640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A breakup leads to a request that eventually leaves Akashi with no other choice but to attend a party wearing a dress too tight and too short for his liking, stilettos, hair extensions and fake boobs as Furihata's girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sleep-deprivation and thirst are what drove me to write this. i am sorry. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> happy new year ◟(◔ั₀◔ั )◞ ༘♡
> 
>  **ps:** this is story unbeta'd. ~~and i'm kinda detail-blind so... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯~~

Akashi Seijuurou can’t even begin to describe how much of a bad idea this is, and yet he still reaches for the door pull; he still opens the door and steps inside the banquet hall. Usually, being looked at doesn’t make him self-conscious; however, right now is an exception—

The gaze of the crowd makes his _glossed_ lips purse. He gulps. As he lets go of the door and lets it close behind him, he suddenly wonders how most of the women he knows are able to walk around wearing clothes like this without feeling vulnerable. It’s amazing how even a number of them that claims to feel empowered as they walk around in tight and _breezy_ article of clothings such as the the one he’s currently wearing.

 He closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath. He’ll figure out later; for now—he reminds himself of the reason why he came to this place in a strapless burgundy silk cocktail dress and a pair of gold stilettos, equipped with hair extensions that matched his original hair color and… fake boobs that had been strategically placed as to look like real ones.

_That’s right._

_He’s on a mission._

Having conditioned his mind, he reopens his eyes and gives the place a quick but thorough scan from left to right. It takes him less than thirty seconds to spot _his client._

Akashi pushes his hair (extensions) behind his ear. With newfound confidence and poise, he strides to the direction where a particular brunet is currently being inconvenienced by an orange haired, big-busted woman clad in black.

“Fu—” he clears his throat, “Kouki.”

The brunet immediately turns to him. Probably realizing who it is that called him, he chokes on his drinks and ends up spitting out the beverage. His eyes widens and his jaw drops. Hesitantly, he points at his caller and stammers out, “A-Aka—?”

Before he can coherently utter his name, Akashi gently places his index finger over Furihata’s lips. As shyly as his acting skills can go, he pulls the finger away from his friend’s lips and methodically places his hand over his fake cleavage.

He cracks a small smile—he pictures Kuroko and tries to imitate his smiles (but he tries to make it look like an apologetic one by furrowing his brows and refusing to look at Furihata just yet). Then he pictures Momoi and how she used to act around Kuroko during the days—he decides to mimic that.

Softly, Akashi takes Furihata’s hand and just looks at it. As he looks at it, he wonders if he’s doing this correctly. He mentally takes a deep breath to get the thought off his mind so he can focus on the job at hand. Pseudo-shyly, he looks up to Furihata. (For some reason, he’s beet red and warmer than usual—maybe he’s been drinking too much.)

“Sorry I’m late, _darling._ ”

After finishing his sentence, Akashi suddenly feels as though poisoning  the woman in black is a better option than this.

Somehow, something about this felt… awfully _wrong_.

* * *

 

Their friendship sort of just happened.

It started during Kuroko’s birthday party celebration some time after the Winter Cup where they talked quite (at first it was just Akashi talking, but then eventually, after realizing Akashi wasn’t so scary, Furihata started talking as well)—and then they realized that they had chemistry (as friends), and so they exchanged numbers before the day ended.

At the beginning, their friendship mostly comprised of petty but amusing text messages and IMs—but as time progressed, so did their relationship. The next thing they both knew, the petty but amusing messages turned into 3 A.M. brainpukes which range from something similar to that of shit posting and night blogging  (except they don’t post or blog about their thoughts, they just share it with each other through calls or messages) to heart-to-heart conversations (which aren’t usually conversations but more of an exchange of understanding silence and a quiet word or two).

Things just better when they ended up attending the same university. Whenever they could, they’d go home together, eat out together or just hang out and relax somewhere nice and quiet. Sometimes Furihata would ask Akashi to tutor him on the subjects he'd find difficult, and sometimes, Akashi would ask Furihata’s opinion on certain matters related to his major.

Now, they’re both twenty-five and working professionals. Akashi has taken over his father’s business; meanwhile, Furihata has become quite a successful architect and everything’s going smoothly for him—that’s until his long-time girlfriend breaks up with him and he becomes the object of his boss's daughter's affections.

* * *

 

Precisely three days ago, Akashi found a distressed Furihata on his doorstep. There were bags underneath his eyes—bags darker and more heavy-looking than usual—his hair was unkempt, and his posture— _don’t get him started with his posture_. It was _terrible_. He looked just like how he looked like when they first faced off on court.

To ask whether his friend was fine or not was out of the question; he obviously was not. And so he decided to ask the more reasonable question after letting him in and serving him something to drink, “So… what may be the problem, Furihata-kun? You look—I apologize for the term I am about to use, please try not to take offense—but you really do look awful.”

Furihata took a sip of the orange juice Akashi served. After, he just stared at the juice for a while then sighed. He put the glass on the table, but continued to stare at the juice. Then he sighed again. He placed his palm on his face and let his fingers rub his temples.

“I… I honestly don’t know anymore, Akashi-san. I don’t know which is worse, the fact that Miyu-chan just… uhh,” he looked down then scratched his cheek, “well, she broke up with me,” he let out a nervous chuckle then cleared his throat, then he continued, “or the fact that I don’t have a girlfriend to bring this Saturday at our company party to discourage my boss’s daughter to stop pinning after me. I’m so… I’m a mess—a mess in a mess. I’m so tired!”

The seemingly emotionally-harassed brunet let out a wail. As he heaved a long sigh of exasperation, he pulled on his hair, let go then buried his face in one of the cushions on Akashi’s couch. There, he wailed again. This went on for a while.

As this occurred, Akashi, on the other hand, although surprised about the breakup, couldn’t help but notice shadiness of Furihata’s statement a moment ago—or rather how his statement had been delivered.

Not that he thought Furihata was lying about anything—rather than lying, it kind of more of… _hiding_. He seemed to be hiding something from him. And he guessed what he was hiding was something related to the breakup.

 _That’s right_.

“Miyu-san… haven’t you two been going out since high school? Weren’t you going to propose?” Akashi left his real question unspoken, but he knew Furihata’s smart enough to catch on that. And judging from the sudden stiffening of Furihata’s shoulder, he most likely have realized where Akashi wanted to get at.

But instead of breaking out into a rant—which he would by default do, _unless he was hiding something_ —Furihata forced out a laugh, then went quiet. Eventually, he sat up and put the cushion away. With an apologetic smile, he looked up to his friend and vocalized his apology, “Sorry. I don’t think I can talk about it with you just yet. I mean, I still don’t quite get it myself. She just said something and even it caught me off guard! But…! I promise you’ll be the first to know when I get things figured out!”

His curiosity was eating him—but Akashi decided to just leave it at that, for now anyway. He trusted Furihata would tell him in time so he hummed in agreement, “All right. If that is what fancies you.”

“Yeah… thanks,” Furihata smiled, then all of a sudden he jumped out of his seat with another topic, “Oh yeah, Akashi-san—I… I know this might be really, I don’t know, unfair, I guess, because I just refused telling you about what happened between Miyu-chan and I, but…

“She told me something all right. I’ll give you that. And I absolutely have to think about it, and so I really have no time to think about my boss’s daughter pinning after me, so, I was just wondering… Can you please find me someone who can proxy as Miyu-chan and discourage Karin-san from pursuing me?”

By the time Furihata had finished his asking, he was already on his knees with hands clasped together and head bowed as though praying to a god.

Akashi put his hand over his mouth, but it was no use. A snort escaped anyway.

“My, my, haven’t you grown into a lady’s man, Furihata-kun? But kidding aside, that wouldn’t be a problem. I could pull a few strings, I suppose.”

* * *

 

 _Was what he said_.

And then he ended up pulling a broken string, and the next thing he knew, he was Momoi’s house fifteen minutes before the party because the proxy contracted sore eyes and was only able to inform him less than thirty minutes prior to the event and there wasn’t really anyone else who knew the plan or would be able to answer any impromptu probable couple question thrown by Furihata’s admirer… _except him_.

* * *

 

Furihata stares at him for at most a full ten seconds before being able to talk again, and when he does, he winds up becoming a stammering mess, “A-A-Aka-M-Miyu! Y-you’re late. I-I’m so…pissed off…? Uhm, we need to talk! Karin-san, if you excuse us for a bit! Ahahaha! We just need to… talk… about… _a lot of things._ ” He then proceeds by taking Akashi’s hand and dragging him out, back in, (all to confuse the lady he was talking with a while ago) then under an unoccupied table.

There, he lets it all out—through hysteric whispering.

“A-Akashi-san!? W-what are you doing here? W-Why are you… Are you supposed to be my date!? W-what happened to Ishikawa-san?”

Akashi heaves a sigh. He fishes his phone out of his purse and shows the original proxy’s message to him.

“Sore eyes. I apologize about this, Furihata-kun. I did not want to do this; I never thought of doing this, but she only contacted me twenty-five minutes before the event, and there wasn’t enough time to brief anyone with what to do. I am truly s—”

Furihata cuts off his apology with a sincere thank you. For some reason, his cheeks go pink after thanking Akashi. He looks away immediately then scratches his cheek. He gulps then provides an explanation, “I mean, this really means a lot to me. I really need to focus, you know. So uhmm, thanks for doing this even though I, uhm, kept certain things from you.”

Akashi offers him a small smile as he puts back the phone in his purse, “It’s nothing. We are friends after all, are we not?”

“Yeah. Friends…” Furihata scratches his cheek again and breaks into a soft chuckle. Eventually, he looks at Akashi and offers his hand, “Do you, uhm, wanna dance? I mean… uhh… errr… we gotta do something, right? To show that we’re a couple?”

He’s doing it again—Akashi notices—Furihata’s nervous tick. The thing he does when he’s hiding or lying about something. He frowns, but decides against prying and takes his hand instead.

Furihata leads him out of the table and to the dance floor. As they made their way there hand in hand, Furihata mutters shakily, “Hey, uhh, right now, you…look pretty by the way.”

Akashi notices Furihata’s ears blushing from where he’s standing. His brow raises.

“Furihata-kun, how much have you been drinking before I arrived?”

Furihata flinches but continues walking.

Akashi feels Furihata’s hand shake and his index finger make a scratching gesture as he answers the question.

“A…A lot.”

It doesn't take a genius to be able to tell that Furihata has just lied, but it might just take one to find out why.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the lovely comments, kudos and bookmarks (i appreciate them all) ◟(◔ั₀◔ั )◞ ༘♡  
> hope you all had a splendid new year and started your year right ~~because i sure hella started the year wrong, but i'm ok now haha~~
> 
> anyway, here i present to you chapter 2.

Furihata had decided to go for a simple proposal, and so there he was in Maji Burger a week ago around seven in the evening, sitting at an empty table, cueing at the staffs from time to time and rehearsing his speech as he waited for the arrival of his long-time girlfriend, Miyu.

* * *

 

“All right…”

Catching a glimpse of his girlfriend’s figure through the glass panel fifteen minutes after he called her over, he took a deep breath and gave the plan one final run-through, “Once she gets here, she’s going to sit here across me. We’re going to exchange greetings. Small talk—small talk—If she asks why here, tell her it’s for old time’s sake since this is where we met—then divert the topic—hold her hand; say what you wanna say, ask for the burger and remove the upper bun then—”

“Kou-chan.”

He jumped. Almost too quickly, he turned to her and squeaked, “M-Miyu-chan!”

She blinked. With brows knitted together, she tilted her head and cautiously asked, “Are you okay?”

“A-ahh! Yeah—No—Uhm… Sorry! I guess I’m just nervous because I’m about to propose to you—ughhk!”

The worry in her face morphed into shock.

“W-What…?”

Furihata mentally smacked himself.

“I—uhh—” he glanced at the crew members of the establishment and cued them to bring over the burger.

And so they did.

Clumsily but without missing a beat, with a frown on his face, Furihata picked up the burger, went on one knee and removed the upper bun. He gulped then said, “Will you make patties with and be the upper bun of this humble lower bun—will you let me have the honor of being a complete burger with you? In other words, will you marry me, Miyu?”

For a split second, Miyu’s eyes shimmered as they widened. She was so close to smiling (she got the joke; the love of her life was proposing to her)—so close—but when she did, the kind of smile she gave was not a happy one. It was a small sad smile, and by that time, the shine in her eyes was long gone, replaced by a faraway look.

Noticing the dejection in Miyu’s expression, Furihata’s fingers trembled. Hesitantly, he asked, “H-Hey, is everything all right?”

She picked up the ring from the patty, and as she stared at it, she murmured, “I love you, Kouki—do you have any bill you need to settle? I want to walk. Outside.”

* * *

 

The two silently walked loosely hand in hand until they reached the park which was currently devoid of people. There, under a lamppost, Miyu broke both the silence and the touch. With a fragile smile, she brought out the ring from her pocket and muttered, “You’ve made me really happy today, Kouki. You always do actually. In the end, falling in love with you's the best. It was a good choice. So let me return the favor and grant you happiness as well.”

After saying so, she took Furihata’s hand and placed the ring on his palm. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath as she closed his hand and squeezed it. A smile broke out of her face as she opened her eyes again. With hand still squeezing Furihata’s, she spoke softly, “I love you. I love you so much, and I’ve always have wished you’d love me back as much as I love you. But we’ve reached this far, and you still haven’t, so I must decline and put an end to this relationship. Thank you for being kind, patient and understanding up until now, Kouki.”

* * *

 

Furihata could only stare at her with a frown of confusion on his face as she held his hand and said her piece. Aside from the “I love you” and “I must decline and put an end to this relationship”, nothing else from what she said made sense to him.

His head shook; his eye twitched.

“Miyu, what are you talking about? I love you too! Is it my job? Do you feel that I’m not spending enough time with you anymore? I—I can do something about that; I’ll do anything—”

A soft giggle passed her lips, but the sad smile did not leave them.

“Can you stop loving Akashi-kun then?”

* * *

 

For the past few days since the breakup, Furihata had done nothing but think about Miyu’s words and reflect. As much as he wanted to think that she was just imagining things, the things she said and the rationale behind them—they made an awful lot of sense.

* * *

 

_“Are you saying that I just went out with you to distract myself from the fact that I actually like Akashi-san!? Miyu, I’ve liked you even before I met Akashi-san!” At this point, Furihata was brimming with anguish and was beginning to seethe in anger and frustration._

_If they were in a stereotypical shoujo manga, this would probably be the part where the female lead would be taken aback, where her will would begin to waver, where she’d realize she had misunderstood and finally she and the male lead would get together—or get back together._

_But they weren’t in a cliché shoujo manga. This was real life—and Miyu was not a one-dimensional character who’s incapable of applying logic._

_Calmly, she replied to him, “I’m not saying you used me or that you never liked me. You probably really did like me back then, and I felt that when you confessed that’s why I went out with you—but somewhere along the way, you might not have noticed, but I have—you liked me, but you started falling in love, not with me, but with Akashi-kun.”_

_“I—”_

_“You just didn’t notice, and even if you did, you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it and would stubbornly deny those feelings anyway. Either ways, it’s easy to bypass such a thing when you have a convenient excuse to rid of the thoughts and feelings whenever they’d arise._

_“‘Ahh, it’s impossible to be in love with Akashi-san because I have a girlfriend and that’s Miyu-chan.’ You weren’t afraid, because in the end, I know you, Kouki. You’re not afraid of falling in love with someone; you’re afraid of them finding out that you are, especially if the person you fell in love with happened to be your heterosexual best friend, and we both know why—and if you have a girlfriend, there’s no way Akashi-kun would ever suspect you of holding such affections for him._

_“Having me around made not noticing them so convenient—you not noticing, and Akashi-kun too. I’m not saying you did it on purpose; you wouldn’t have. All I’m saying is that you did it. More or less unconsciously. And I’m telling you this because I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to end up marrying someone whom you’ll eventually realize you don’t love. You’re… too kind to experience that.”_

_And at the end of it all, the one who was taken aback and the one whose will wavered wasn’t Miyu but him._

_“Kouki, think about it. Try to live the way you do with Akashi-kun as a single man, as a man without any convenient excuse. If I turn out to be wrong, then call me, meet me—I’ll apologize to you, and if you still love me, if you still want to, I’ll get back together with you and marry you. But right now, it’s no good. I hope you understand.”_

* * *

 

But even if they did make sense, he didn’t want to believe it was true—not that easily at least. And so he decided to put himself on trial—and we all know that evidence is everything in a court of law, and so he thought he’d experiment to gather the much needed evidence that will either end or open this trial.

Four days later after much due consideration, he brought himself in front of Akashi’s doorstep.

Hesitantly, he rang the doorbell, and the moment Akashi opened the door, his hair stood on their ends. His heart began pounding crazily. His fingers began to fidget. He couldn’t even look him in the eyes until he invited him inside his apartment.

* * *

 

The orange juice Akashi served helped calm his nerves, as well as the feeling of Akashi’s cushion against his skin ( _It didn’t smell like him. Thank God._ ), the darkness, the silence and being able to wail. The thought of his boss’s daughter surprisingly also helped calm him down.

But Akashi was a sharp one; he didn’t miss a beat and noticed every suspicious thing he ended up doing, and that made Furihata quite nervous.

In the end, he didn’t get to ask Akashi what he really wanted to ask him—and that was to pretend as his boyfriend on their upcoming company party, because the more they talked about Miyu and the less they talked about Karin, the more he felt self-conscious and hyper-aware of Akashi’s presence, and he was afraid that if asked and Akashi asked him why him, why a boyfriend and not just hire some girl, he’d end up blurting everything out, and that would be the end of their friendship.

Plus, it wasn’t like he was going to agree doing it for him.

* * *

 

_Was what Furihata thought._

And yet there he (Akashi) is now, dressed up as a pretty woman even, on the dance floor with him, pretending to be his girlfriend, dancing with him to the tenuous beat of Haley Reinhart’s cover of Can’t Help Falling In Love With You.

It’s crazy.

It’s crazy how Furihata is slow dancing with Akashi to the song he thought he would’ve liked to play in his and Miyu-chan’s wedding. It’s crazy how his hand is on Akashi’s waist, how he’s touching it and feeling it and how those facts are making his heart pound painfully against his chest.

It’s crazy how the hand that was holding Miyu’s just a week ago is now holding Akashi’s. It’s crazy how their fingers are intertwined and how close their faces are.

Crazier when Akashi pulls their bodies closer together and rests his forehead on his.

They’ve done this before. This isn’t the first time they’ve been this close. He had taken care of Akashi when he was down with a fever and vice versa—and this forehead thing, they did this a lot. He even remembers sleeping beside each other. But it feels so different now that he, as Miyu had put it, _doesn’t have a convenient_ excuse.

God help him. He doesn’t know what to do.

Furihata feels his whole body heat up. His head begins to feel like it’s spinning.

He feels Akashi’s breath against his skin—his throat runs dry.

This is too much.

He decides to speak up, “A-Akashi-san, a-aren’t we too—I don’t know—close?”

Akashi looks at him in the eyes.

Furihata bites his lower lip to hold back a squeal.

“She’s watching.”

Relief—that’s what he should’ve felt, but instead, it’s disappointment. And from there he just knows, he won’t be calling Miyu, and there isn’t going to be a wedding or getting back together that’s going to take place. Not anytime soon.

Instead, what will be taking place is a purge—one hella purge, because these feelings actually exist; they're very real.

But he isn’t about to scare Akashi away and lose what they have now because of a stupid crush.


End file.
